Mrs Robot
by pkpulakkmr
Summary: A gender-flipped parody and retelling of Mr. Robot made in honor of its third season premiere. This is my most meta story yet, full of pop-culture references, fourth-wall breaking and a very special omake for gaming fans. Please like and review, because this is just the beginning, sand I hope I'm able to turn this into a substantial story.


Hello, friend.

Yes, I know you're reading this, despite all odds. I'm fairly certain that God might have manipulated things to ensure it would happen. Well, in a manner of speaking at least.

Really, if I told anyone about this, they'd consider me even more delusional and psychotic than they normally do. But you're aware, aren't you? You're aware that me and my world are nothing other than the creations of a cruel, pitiful God. I'm nothing more than a cheap, inferior copy of someone from another world, under another God. Heck, maybe if I ever lived in the world of the true God, life would be better. Far more people would listen to my story, and I have a feeling I'd be appreciated far more based on the merits of that God's following alone. I don't have any evidence to prove it in my world, but I am certain the true God is a supremely talented and respected storyteller. Though he might actually be disgusted with my very existence, since I am the creation of a pathetic, false God.

But regardless of what God truly rules over us, or if one even exists, I've always had this unshakable passion burning within me. It's a twisted passion, to be honest. However, it's a passion I intend to follow through to the end, but I know I will hurt a lot of people in the process.

I have long been convinced, however, that those people deserve to be hurt.

And they know I'm coming for them. It will take some time, however.

I'm still looking over my shoulder, at those men in black following me. Their attempts to evade my attention are pitiful, likely deliberately so. As I continue to travel in the underground railway in the Akihabara district, the weight of my backpack reminds me of meeting I set up.

Ah, yes, you might be wondering, why Akihabara. Heck, why Japan? I'm actually pretty sure that I'll be quite appealing to a certain subculture the more they find out about me, and I strongly suspect that subculture has a divine stamp of approval.

For starters, my name is Natsuki Aragaki. A pretty unremarkable Japanese name anyone could make up at random. I'm very young, barely in my 20s and just out of high school. I've been called incredibly cute and/or sexy throughout my life, and all my attempts to hide it don't stop the truth from leaking out. I've considered burning my face just to escape the divinely ordained fate I've been given, but I conveniently decided it wasn't worth it. I'm a huge pop culture nerd, into all sorts of anime, manga, video games, and even Western shows.

Oh yeah, did I mention I was bilingual? Yeah, I am, since I have some extended family in America. Also, I think being fluent in English makes it pretty convenient for you to read about me, and for God to toy with me, since I imagine neither Him nor you know much of Japanese. You must have noticed by now that I'm translating anything and everything I experience as part of this story into English, because I just know my God won't have it any other way.

In any case, where were we? Oh right, the train is stopping at my destination, and I exit to the platform on the station.

I take another look at my watch, sighing in relief that I'm well on schedule. I pull up my hoodie to conceal my face, in a resigned attempt to conceal my moe appeal from the crowd and you, though I know it's hopeless to try with you because you're persistently watching me and probably like the fact that I'm being coy. However, I don't have anything to worry about with you, really. You can't actually stop me from completing my mission. The most you can do is stop reading, or some other things I won't bother mentioning since they're not worth dwelling over and won't affect this story in any way.

When I finally enter the cafe I've been walking towards all this time, I'm glad to see that my target had the good sense to listen to me and show up. I calmly walk over to him and take a seat in front of him, making sure my phone is ready to do the needful.

He's initially flustered after noticing me, probably assuming I sat there by mistake. But it doesn't take long for his eyes to widen with recognition.

"You're...you're...?"

"Yes. I'm Samantha Sepiol, leader of Medjed and the one who called you here." I say with a smile. I take off my backpack and put it on the table. "So, Mr. Suguru Kamoshida, how about we go over your work history for a bit?"

"Work history...? W-what are you talking about?" Kamoshida says, visibly flustered. Of course, he doesn't like the fact I'm being so cryptic with him, especially after the very clearly-worded threat I sent him to bring him here. But I won't be relenting. Squirming under my finger is just the beginning of what he's gonna get.

"Let's see here...ah, you had a pretty illustrious career in volleyball back when you were around my age. It really gave you a free ride through college, or maybe it didn't, I'm still a little hazy on how higher education works in Japan." I chuckle, and pause. "And now you're a gym teacher at Shujin Academy, leading the volleyball team to success in the nationals. Quite the resume, I must say!" I finish, with a beaming smile.

"What is this, a job interview?" Kamoshida retorts, visibly irritated, but I know he won't lay a finger on me.

"Think of it as a performance appraisal. All good workplaces need to ensure their employees are on the right track, wouldn't you agree?" I say with another smile. "So now that we've gone through the basics and your key achievements, I think it's time to take a look at your mistakes, Mr. Kamoshida." I say.

It's at this point that he tenses up. That indicates that I'm about to go in for the kill, in case you're wondering.

I take out the folder in my backpack and place it on my table. Kamoshida accepts my unspoken invitation and opens and flips through it. His face immediately goes pale.

"Y-you...how did you?!" he quickly restrains himself.

"Ah, the explanation's complex and boring and something not even God would understand." I say. "The only reason I showed these 1,500 pictures of child pornography to you was to confirm that you were indeed the one who possessed them, and your reaction did just that. I must say, you've committed a grave offense, Mr. Kamoshida, one that does have severe consequences."

"Look." Kamoshida says, with a clearly forced facade of calmness. "I didn't hurt anyone, okay? I know, I know that this is an illegal, heck, abhorrent practice, and I was unable to...control my desires. You've opened my eyes, okay? I'll never do this shit again. And I promise that I'd never hurt you or any of your friends."

"Well, of course you'd never hurt me or my friends." I say dryly. "I'm blackmailing you with all this information, aren't I? No sexual predator in their right mind would go after someone who could easily expose them. But as for your claim that you never hurt anyone, period? Well..." I say, and give out the most maniacal chuckle I can muster, flabbergasting Kamoshida and maybe even you.

"What kind of appraiser would I be if I wasn't thorough with my work?" I say, and take out another folder. When Kamoshida opens this one, he gasps in horror, causing the other patrons to look at him.

"It's...it's nothing!" he exclaims in a feeble attempt to calm them down, and they all go back to minding their own business anyway.

"Oh, come on, Mr. Kamoshida." I say. "Don't those two pictures mean anything to you?"

"N-no, they don't, they..."

"Really? I mean, I could just check Shujin Academy's student directory and find the names of Ann Takamaki and Shiho Suzui with no problem, you know."

"I...I didn't..."

"You didn't what? You didn't sexually harass Ann Takamaki and then rape Shiho in response to her rejecting you? You didn't drive Shiho to attempt suicide and force the both of them to change schools and move away? You didn't proceed to then prey on numerous other members of the volleyball team that I can easily-"

"Stop...please stop it..." Kamoshida says, close to tears. "Please. Is it money you want? Is that it?"

"It was never about the money, you piece of shit." I say, bluntly.

"So what? You just brought me here to gloat? To just tell me how you're going to destroy me? Is that it?!" he says, sobbing.

"There may not be any phantom thieves in this universe, but that doesn't mean you'll get away with your crimes, Mr. Kamoshida. I already have destroyed you. All the information I shared with you has already been leaked to the internet, and the police were listening in on our entire conversation since I discreetly placed a call to them while we were chatting in Shizuka Maid cafe in Akihabara." I say, pulling out my cellphone and talking into the speaker. You know, to grandly reveal Kamoshida's location to them.

"Now, do whatever you want with these folders, I doubt you'll be able to destroy them before the cops arrive. As for what to do when they show up, I recommend either turning yourself in or throwing yourself into oncoming traffic." I say, and close my backpack and leave.

As I hear the police sirens close in, the only thing I can hear Kamoshida say is "Phantom thieves...? What...?"

Pretty cool references, right?

* * *

Now I know that following the adventures of a hacktivist vigilante can be pretty entertaining, but it's not a very sustainable or practical career path. Vigilantes don't have a reliable source of income, and are always working in legal gray areas that could fuck them over at any time. And since I'm an imitation of someone who never tried to conceal the boring parts of his life, I'm afraid you'll have to read the boring parts of my life as well.

See, the boring, tedious aspect of my existence is the full time job I hold. Actually, it goes beyond that. I find my job outright offensive.

See, my primary occupation is working for a cybersecurity company whose English translation is Full-Safe. Y'know, full safety and all that.

And the main clients of Full-Safe are subsidiaries of this gigantic piece of shit conglomerate known as E Corp. Really, if any conglomerate represents the societal sickness plaguing the modern world, it's E Corp.

They buy up small businesses without mercy with their regularly scheduled murders and execu-ahem, "mergers and acquisitions", they relentlessly lobby governments all over the world to suck their genitals, and they finance and support the utterly bullshit "only people at the top are winners" narrative, so that when poor people, or someone like me who only avoided being poor thanks to well-off parents and a stable job, want some change, we're told to go stand in the corner and think about how we haven't worked hard enough.

I think now would be a good time to recount a session I had with my therapist the other day. Don't worry, it was a pretty iconic moment for the character I'm imitating, so here's hoping you enjoy it!

...okay, just had to follow a divinely ordained command to recheck the original speech for faithfulness sake and...here I go!

"You seem a little out of it again, you know." Ayako says, her look of concern seeming genuine, but also rehearsed. I guess it comes with the territory of being empathetic for a living. Something I don't have the patience for right now.

"I know the drill." I say. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't." I continue with a chuckle.

"I'd really appreciate it if you didn't think of our sessions a chore to slog through." Ayako says and sighs.

"It's not your fault, Ayako." I say, deciding not to retain the honorifics and Japanese naming conventions while translating this scene.

"Then what is it, Natsuki? You don't have to be closed off to me. All this session is is a safe space for you to talk through what's on your mind." she says.

"It's natural law, you know. I keep hearing about how important it is to break unhealthy patterns, to initiate crucial lifestyle changes. But that means taking things off autopilot. And if you're not working on autopilot, a lot of things just become a slog."

"Hm, I see. I understand where you're coming from, you know. Coming to therapy on a regular basis must be hard to adjust to." she says.

"It is. And, you know, the worst part is, turning off the autopilot ends up making me so much more aware about the crap I've been running from. At least back when the autopilot was on, I could just not notice and not care. But now that I'm here, and I'm talking, I have to." I say.

"Well, it's about weighing the alternatives, you know." Ayako says. "What would've happened to you had you not come here?"

"The consequences of not coming...would've been unacceptable." I say, with a strong conviction in my tone. "But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. Thinking about everything. Thinking about society."

"And what is it about society that frustrates you so much?"

I don't know...maybe it's the fact that we celebrated Steve Jobs as a great man even though he made his billions on the backs of children and wage slaves.

That we're just expected to shrug our shoulders and say "It can't be helped!" whenever shit hits the fan, because nothing should ever compromise the social order of the nation, even if it's a social order glued together by deceit, manipulation and broken dreams.

That people have the gall to defend the oppression of societal outcasts, and that nobody wants to do the hard work of standing up for them.

Instead, we all retreat into our shallow sources of pride and comfort. Someone has tons of money. Someone has millions of social media followers. Someone else has an overflowing manga collection she never stops reading.

No one wants any intimacy because we don't trust each other. All we do is drift along with our stupid, shallow running commentaries, keeping the autopilot on at all costs, even if we fucking know we've invited Yaldabaoth to lock us up and throw away the key. In the end, making a difference is just too painful for most people, so we'd all just rather be sedated and vote with our wallets and our tax dollars, and fuck it, even by our not voting, to let the sickness keep festering. Fuck society.

So, how was it? Let me know in the reviews!

"Natsuki? What happened?" Ayako says, having noticed me spacing out.

"Oh, nothing." I reply. You should've noticed from the lack of quotation marks that I didn't actually say the speech out loud.

The therapy session ends and I head back home. To my relief, I find that my dealer, Kazuya, has been waiting for me.

Yes, I am a young Japanese lady who does drugs, which would place me pretty much at the very bottom of society's hierarchy if anyone ever knew. Not like I have much of a choice, though, considering what a garbage existence I have and the fact the the guy I'm imitating is an addict too.

"Kazuya!" I smile and close in for a hug. He quickly backs away, his face flushed in embarrassment. Oh, that's just so cute isn't it, when guys get all flustered after being glomped by a cute girl. The folks from God's favorite subculture know what I'm talking about.

I mean, it almost gives one the impression that there may be romantic or erotic undertones bubbling beneath the surface. And they totally are, I actually just fucked Kazuya and he's sleeping next to me now. I didn't do any blow, though, since he didn't bring any. Oh well.

 **CHAPTER END**

* * *

 **Omake: Imperial Dojo!**

"It was truly a humiliating series of events that finally gave me my sense of purpose. The rebels took everything from me. My pride. My purpose. And even my dearest comrade. I will stop at nothing to avenge what I have lost. The Empire shall be-"

"Oh hey, Versio! You're finally here!"

The interruption startles me.

"You...no, it can't be!" I stutter.

"But it is! For you see, we're not in canon right now!" my long-lost comrade says.

"Oh..."

"Oh, welcome to the Imperial Dojo Omake everybody! I'm Seyn Marana, an Imperial Officer." she then turns to you, the reader, who I'm finally noticing now.

"And I'm Iden Versio, also an Imperial Officer. I'm guessing we've appeared here because the release of Star Wars Battlefront II is imminent when this is being written?" I say, understanding this is my cue.

"You're absolutely right, Iden! The author follows the latest developments in the AAA gaming industry quite closely, and he even bought our novel _Inferno Squad!_ " Seyn says.

"Oh, he did, did he?" I say, a little flattered. "Well, good to know. I'm glad so many people are willing to listen to the Galactic Empire's side of the story."

"You and me both! I've missed you so much Iden. After what happened to me, I don't blame you for-"

"It's alright." I say, disregarding protocol and giving Seyn a hug. "And besides, if we talk anymore it'll probably spoil the story for the people reading this, so..."

"Oh yeah, we can't have that." Seyn says with a chuckle. "Anyway, this is a fascinating story about the Natsuki girl, right?"

"To me, she's nothing but another misguided terrorist. If she isn't dealt with in a timely manner, E Corp will be torn apart and the current world order will collapse. I'd hate to see that happen, especially after what Luke Skywalker did to my own world." I say, venom seeping into my voice.

"I understand, Iden. But Natsuki reminds me a lot of myself, since I was an influence in her character's creation. People who are geniuses have a strong burden to bear, and I just don't think she grew up in an environment appropriate enough to truly understand what is right and what is wrong." Seyn says.

"I know. But if she is a child of rebellion, she must be crushed before her seed blooms into a destructive maelstrom. Just like those people on the internet complaining about microtransactions and loot-boxes in Battlefront II!" I say, having gotten a sudden urge to scream dramatically.

"I am agreement with you there, Iden. That is why I chose to serve with you in the Inferno Squadron." she says.

"But then, why did you waver? If you hadn't let your emotions get the..." I begin, my voice choked up.

"Shh..." she says, hugging me. "It's okay. We can be together for now. And like I said, no spoilers. Let the readers figure out the story for themselves."

"Thank you...Seyn." I mutter, between my sobs, and to you, the reader, I say "Star Wars Battlefront II's release date is on November 2017. Please pre-order now, and don't listen to what the rebel scum online critics are saying! Also, _Inferno Squad_ is available at bookstores everywhere."


End file.
